Infighting Between Enterprise and the Legion?

Wasteland OL Official Website [Beta 0.7 New Content: Zombified Mutants] [Characteristics: Lack the conventional mutant head weak point, possess stronger regenerative capability and higher resilience, with some equipped with a small amount of cybernetic prosthetics. Most "zombie mutants" do not differ significantly in appearance from other green-skinned mutants. Exercise caution if encountered!] [Weaknesses: Possess high resistance to both radiation and toxic substances. No obvious weaknesses.] [Recommended Ammunition: 20mm and above caliber munitions, bolt rounds (bolters), Dragon's Breath rounds (shotguns), thermobaric rounds (RPG launchers), etc.] [To Be Verified: Flamethrowers, Molotov cocktails, etc. (Note: Please maintain a safe distance to avoid being tackled by burning mutants)] Carrying Umbrella Not Knife at Midnight: "Holy crap, so it's a stealth-buffed elite mob!" Xing Le Jiu Kun: "Fucking hell, and here I thought it was a bug!" Ye Shi: "Then here's the question: how do you know Ah Guang didn't just turn a bug into an elite mob? (funny face)" Jieyan: "Makes sense, holy shit!" Yirena: "Ah Guang: Well said, now never say it again. (funny face)" Tyrannosaurus Warrior: "That makes no scientific sense... Growing their head back after getting decapitated? That wasn't in our biology textbooks! Should the trash dev consider repeating his nine years of compulsory education?" Ye Shi: "Good point, but why don't you ask how psychohistory manages to calculate every single variable? What on earth does a nuclear blaster actually shoot? How does the Force power a lightsaber? How do the central nervous systems and immune systems of advanced organisms dehydrate? And... why does SpongeBob ask the Magic Conch shell every time he has a problem?" Tyrannosaurus Warrior: "I know SpongeBob, but he doesn't ask the Magic Conch in every episode! And what the hell are all those other things? (dazed)" Elven King Fugui: "Asking so much at once is gonna fry his CPU. (funny face)" Ye Shi: "Weird, I thought he'd at least recognize two of them. Totally unscientific. (funny face)" Jieyan: "Hahaha, fuck!" ... Roughly two kilometers north of Weifu Military Base lay an abandoned little village. This had once been a hamlet subordinate to the Fuzhuang settlement. After Torch arrived, the people here vanished without a trace, leaving the entire village abandoned. When the Southern Construction Corps first arrived, they had temporarily commandeered the buildings here for a time. Once the military base was erected, they pulled out. Later, when the Slime Mold Research Community officially went to war with Torch and the coalition forces garrisoned Weifu Military Base, survivors from Hostler Town often drove horse carts over to trade. Over time, they simply moved into that nameless village, renovating its dilapidated facilities and opening taverns and inns. Later still, a bunch of life-profession players brought their barbecue grills over, and the once peaceful and tranquil village instantly turned smoky and boisterous. In an inconspicuous tavern. Several Enterprise soldiers sat around a table, muttering under their breath while drinking and downing skewers. "Fucking bad luck!" Slamming his cup heavily onto the wooden table, Tang Feng of 1st Company, 2nd Platoon cursed aloud. At the adjacent table, several Free State soldiers exchanged looks, and one turned to ask him, "What's wrong, brother?" Tang Feng let out a beer burp and said, reeking of alcohol, "Our commander took us for a stroll to the front lines, only to drag us back without firing a single shot!" The man chuckled. "Isn't that a good thing?" Not having to go to the front lines was the sweet life; if possible, he'd stay in the rear forever. But that was impossible. Every combat unit had its mission, and everyone's turn would come eventually. However, the train of thought of Ideal City residents was always different from that of the rest of the wasteland. "Good, my ass!" Tang Feng's eyes widened as he hollered, "We came here to kill mutants! Not to drink! Where couldn't I drink? Did I have to come all the way out here to do it?!" "Damn right!" another 2nd Platoon soldier beside him chimed in with a complaint. "We came here for the fate of all humanity! Even without access to the Endpoint Cloud, we never uttered a word of complaint! But after arriving, we realized this place doesn't have what we're looking for at all!" The Free State soldier blinked, asking in confusion, "What are you looking for?" Tang Feng answered without hesitation, "Ideals, courage, and more... I want my name to be a source of pride in the eyes of my family and friends, just like the crew of the Pioneer." The Free State soldiers exchanged looks, their eyes brimming with admiration. As expected of folks from Ideal City. Their mindset was simply built different! They were different. They were here for money, and the people who sent them were naturally here for money too. As for the higher-ups, maybe there were other agendas. But that was for those big shots to worry about; they couldn't care less. They just wanted to pay off their debts as soon as possible, make enough money to last a lifetime, end this damn feast-or-famine existence, and live a slow-paced retired life. Yet while they had no dreams of their own, to people without dreams, those who harbored ideals and were willing to act on them possessed a genuine charisma, practically radiating light. Perhaps what shone wasn't Ideal City's skyscrapers—after all, they had those too—but the ideals glowing within the hearts of its people... At least, that was how it looked to them. "Adam, sniper of the Hound Special Forces, 7th Battalion." A calloused palm clapped Tang Feng on the shoulder, and Adam gave an admiring thumbs-up. "What I admire most are guys like you who don't risk your lives for a paycheck. Once I pay off my loans, I'll be like you—living for the freedom in my heart... Allow me to buy humanity's warriors a drink!" Dazzled by the flattery, Tang Feng gave an embarrassed smile and bumped fists with him. "Tang Feng, 1st Regiment, 1st Battalion, 2nd Platoon... Wait, a sniper? You're a sniper?" Seeing his eyes widen in sudden excitement, Adam paused. "You too?" "No, but I'm cracked with a sniper rifle," Tang Feng rubbed his nose bashfully with his index finger, grinning. "Too bad our squad wasn't assigned a sniper—only the company got a sniper squad. Otherwise, I would've grabbed one for myself for sure." Adam's eyes lit up in pleasant surprise. "What a coincidence. Sounds like you know your stuff. We should spar sometime." Tang Feng agreed instantly. "No problem... Speaking of which, where do you usually drop?" Adam went blank. "Drop... drop where?" Right then, several jeering chuckles came from nearby. At a table not far away, several big-noses drinking booze cast stray glances toward them. Judging by the empty bottles on the side, those guys had downed quite a lot. Otherwise, their tongues wouldn't be slipping so badly. "1st Regiment, 1st Battalion... Yep, that's their designation." "Aren't those the guys from yesterday?" "Haha, Ideal City gluttons." "Can't say that. Awakened have hearty appetites. Maybe they're all Awakened?" "Are you kidding? Those guys treat Awakening like a terminal disease!" At first, Tang Feng wanted to ignore them. The boorishness of the Wilante was plain for everyone across the wasteland to see. Yet the voices of those fellows grew increasingly unrestrained, reaching a volume impossible to ignore. Riding high from the earlier praise, Tang Feng instantly saw red. He slammed his hand on the table and stood up. "Say that again, motherfucker!" The lively tavern fell silent in an instant, including the rowdy Wilante. But the latter only paused for a few seconds before breaking into playful, mocking laughter. "What? Are you saying good-for-nothings bite too? I'd love to see that." The Wilante with the loudest mouth narrowed his eyes and rose, unbuttoning his crisp military uniform and tossing it aside to reveal a light-green undershirt stretched over slabs of hard muscle. A dangerous aura radiated from him, like a leopard coiled to strike. Clearly, he was more than just a big mouth—he had the brawn to back it up. Tang Feng drained the rest of the liquor in his cup and tossed his jacket over the back of a nearby chair. "Want to see a good-for-nothing that bites? Go look in the bathroom mirror, or do I need to send you to the doctor myself?" He didn't have much muscle—it looked freshly built—yet his momentum didn't waver in the least. The bionic optical implant adhered to his iris had already locked onto that ugly nose. He swore he could cave the damn thing in within three moves, with the pinpoint accuracy of a fully modded G9 "Black Swan" assault rifle. That wouldn't require much strength; any adult could pull it off. His companion grabbed his arm, warning him with still-sober eyes, "Hey, don't cause trouble. You might get sent back." "Then let the commander send me back," Tang Feng scoffed, cracking his neck dismissively. "Doesn't look like he plans on sending us to the front anyway." Getting sent back was no worse than wasting time here. Besides, he could wait for the other guy to swing first before fighting back; even if it went to court-martial, no one could blame him. He was standing up for the honor of all Ideal City. Not only would the jury side with him, but the vast majority of people on the Endpoint Cloud who held honor in their hearts would do the same. While the Enterprise soldiers were trying to keep the peace, the Wilante side was eagerly fanning the flames. "Damon, looks like this kid looks down on you?" "Haha, don't let a glutton make a fool out of you." "Shut up," Damon cursed, his eyes narrowing at Tang Feng. "I'll beat him into the dirt first, then come deal with you." "Just don't use your mouth," the instigator joked with a grin, settling in for a good show. "I'm not into that." Tensions flared between the two sides, the air in the tavern thick with gunpowder. Almost every patron turned curious eyes toward them. On one side was Enterprise; on the other, the Legion. If the former backed down, they would cement their reputation as useless cowards; if the latter yielded, the Wilante's vaunted status as a warrior race would look hollow. Everyone was eager to see how this standoff would end. That included the players drinking in the tavern. In particular, In Debt God, loving the drama, opened a betting pool on the spot as the bookie. "Friendly wagers only, people! Keep it light! Anyone placing bets?" Fawai Kuangtu: "Fifty silver coins on the Wilante beating that guy into the ground!" Seeing everyone wanting to bet on the Legion, In Debt God chuckled and drawled, "Not necessarily. If that kid had the guts to stand up and talk back, chances are he's got a few tricks up his sleeve." Seeing no one convinced, he paused before offering some guidance: "As everyone knows, Ideal City folks love cybernetics and smart wearables. For all we know, he's got a mantis blade hidden up his sleeve!" The words of a veteran player carried weight with the rookies. Eyes widened in shock. "Holy crap, it's gonna draw blood?!" "Badass! A hundred silver coins on Enterprise!" "Enterprise for me too!" Seeing the odds flip, In Debt God was thrilled, his eyes crinkling with glee. Remembering he had bet on the Legion, Fawai Kuangtu grew anxious and leaned in, whispering, "Bro, who did you bet on?" Dayan glanced at him and whispered, "The Legion." Fawai Kuangtu's eyes popped wide open. Holy shit! This scheming bastard was a whole new level of dirty! Seeing the two on the brink of coming to blows, the tavern boss behind the counter had no idea what to do. Neither side was someone he could afford to offend. Desperate, he looked toward the good samaritans from the Alliance for help. Yet those guys weren't looking his way at all, clearly uninterested in mediating between Enterprise and the Legion, simply muttering away in a language he couldn't understand. Just as cold sweat drenched the tavernkeeper's brow, a measured cough rang out from the very center of the storm. "Even if you two have a fistfight, it won't prove a thing. Individual bravado is entirely different from the strength of a group. Take those mutants, for instance—even I would have a tough time winning in a one-on-one duel. But on the battlefield, when we clash with all our skills and resources, they don't even get a chance to lay a finger on me." Hearing the untimely voice, the Wilante named Damon narrowed his eyes and looked over. Seeing a fellow in a blue coat, he curled his lip. "And?" Tang Feng frowned as well, telling the Alliance friend in a low voice, "Stay out of this." "You misunderstand. I have no intention of stopping you. It's just that this won't settle anything," Mosquito said with a sigh as both stared at him, continuing leisurely, "So why don't we try a different form of competition? A form that is more civilized and elegant than brawling, and one that far better showcases a soldier's military acumen." Unable to make up any more bullshit, he coughed loudly, reached into his pocket to reveal his true objective, and slapped several decks of cards onto the table, cutting short his rambling pitch. "In short, how about a round of Gwent?" Both froze in bewilderment, especially Damon. "What is that?" Tang Feng knitted his brows, while the Enterprise soldier beside him mumbled, "I think I've heard of that... Was it last year or the year before?" Mosquito smiled. "Probably last year. My buddy sent it as an auction exhibit, but that blockhead isn't cut out for business. He didn't grasp the essence of the game at all, just copied it woodenly, so it never caught on... But no worries, I can demonstrate it for you in person." "So these are Enterprise rules?" Damon narrowed his eyes. "Wouldn't that be unfair to us, who don't know the rules?" "Enterprise rules? No, this is something straight out of our shelter. Clearly, these lads here don't know it either, but they seem pretty eager to try something new." Glancing at Tang Feng, who looked raring to go, Mosquito looked back at Damon and grinned provocatively. "Or are you chicken?" Damon scoffed. "As if." What a joke. He was a reserve officer, a graduate of a proper military academy who had undergone orthodox military training. He could fight, but fighting wasn't the only thing he could do. "Then come take a seat," Mosquito beamed, pulling out a chair for him. "Pick a deck first, and I'll explain the rules. Let's start with the factions..." The original rules of Gwent weren't complicated: 150 cards total across four factions and neutrals, three rows for melee, ranged, and siege, plus weather cards, hero cards, and leader cards. Of course, what Mosquito produced wasn't the original version, but a wildly modded ruleset. On top of Nilfgaard, the Northern Realms, Scoia'tael, and Monsters, he had tacked on a whole bunch of custom factions and decks, along with homebrew lore to make them compatible—such as Trap Cards, Spell Cards, Equipment Cards, and the like. Damon originally wasn't interested, but listening to the silver-tongued Mosquito's continuous stream of chatter, he couldn't help being drawn in. In fact, not just the two men at the center of attention, but other patrons gathered round to listen with curiosity. After all, this place was devoid of entertainment. A relatively straightforward set of rules paired with colorful cards actually sounded quite fun. Still... With so many cards, could anyone really memorize them all? And collecting every single card would probably cost a fortune... "I've got the basics down. When do we start?" Having absorbed the rules, Damon asked with an eager expression, looking at the guy who called himself Mosquito. "Whenever you want." Mosquito turned to Tang Feng across the table, his eyebrows dancing. "What about you?" "Same here," Tang Feng said, then added as an afterthought, "By the way, this is a fair and square duel. Don't play favorites." "Me? Never! I'm always impartial! Even if the Administrator were sitting here, I'd never allow him to cheat right in front of me!" After all, his eyes were his own; if needed, he could always close them. Yet the crowd in the tavern focused on something else entirely—even the Administrator played Gwent?! At the thought, everyone stared at the table with newfound fervor. People abandoned their drinks and shoved forward from their seats. Seeing excitement peak, Mosquito cleared his throat with a loud cough, raised his distinctively raspy voice over the roaring cheers, and shouted: "Then now—" "Let the duel begin!" ... While playing cards wasn't quite as visceral as a fistfight, Mosquito's silver tongue proved unstoppable. Through sheer gift of gab, he managed to whip the crowd into a frenzy. In a place like a tavern, atmosphere was like a movie's background score. With a rousing, epic soundtrack, even a game of Landlord could look more electrifying than Boruto. Not to mention, the cards Mosquito pulled out were brimming with lore and talking points, making it ridiculously easy to spin an entertaining narrative out of thin air! The onlookers crowded around didn't understand the finer points anyway. Swept up in the fiery commentary, they cheered enthusiastically for the evenly matched battle of amateurs. The tavern's boisterous clamor even drove up beer sales considerably. Watching the rowdy crowd, the tavern boss behind the counter finally let out a breath of relief, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead and shooting Mosquito a look of heartfelt gratitude. As for the players watching from the sidelines, they were completely dumbfounded, their jaws dropping as they saw the cards being drawn. "Holy crap, what the hell is Blue-Eyes White Dragon doing here?" "Why the fuck is there a Champion of Khorne?!" "A Druid???" "Pfft, Tengteng's handicrafts give a defense buff???" Listening to Mosquito's nonsensical rambling, they almost forgot what the original rules of the game even were. Not that it mattered. Mosquito even improvised new rules on the fly, entirely discarding the impartiality he had preached earlier. Yet because his internal logic was weirdly self-consistent, nobody raised any objections. The format was adjusted from best-of-three to best-of-five, and the two men at the table had each claimed two victories. Now at the final deciding match, both gripped their hands tightly, glaring fiercely at each other. Standing behind Damon, a group of Wilante roared with red faces and bulging neck veins, cheering at the top of their lungs. "Go, Damon!" "Crush him!" "Use that Super Mutant in your hand! Bash his skull in!" Seeing his useless buddies reveal his hand, Damon nearly spat blood in rage. In desperate resignation, he slammed his strongest card onto the table. "Shut up, all of you!" The mechanics were somewhat like Tian Ji's horse racing; once the opponent knew your hand, you were done for. Not missing this fleeting opening, Tang Feng grabbed the Spell Card he had been holding for ages and slapped it down with a vicious grin. "Finally my turn!" "Activate Spell Card! Resurrect! My Blue-Eyes White Dragon!!" Sitting in the referee's seat, Mosquito jumped up and shrieked at the top of his lungs: "Blue-Eyes White Dragon! The instant it's summoned, it launches an attack on the field! Remove one card from the opponent's melee row whose initial power is not higher than its own!" Without buffs, both cards had 100 power. The moment the words left his mouth, Mosquito's nimble fingers snatched the Super Mutant card and tucked it straight into his pocket. Seeing his ace wiped out, Damon's eyes bugged out, and he couldn't help letting out a curse. "Motherfucker!" Standing beside the table, In Debt God blurted out a curse too. "Holy shit, that works?!" Mosquito winked at him from the referee's seat, whispering in Mandarin, "Hehe, the tides of the battlefield shift in an instant..." With a light cough, he looked back at the stunned Wilante. "Are you playing another card? If not, this round is over." He had to play what he had. Yet judging by his dark face, the outcome of the battle was already set in stone. Just as expected, the Wilante burned through the rest of his hand without flipping the score. The match was decided. Mosquito planted a foot on the table, hoisted Tang Feng's arm high, and loudly proclaimed the winner: "The victor is the warrior of the 100th Mountain Division! Tang Feng of 1st Regiment, 1st Battalion, 2nd Platoon!" Thunderous cheers erupted across the room. Except for the players who knew the real rules and the Wilante who had lost, virtually every wastelander thoroughly enjoyed the spectacle. Once Mosquito stepped down from the table, In Debt God, having lost money on the bet, grabbed him by the collar and fumed: "You call this fucking Gwent?!" Mosquito clicked his tongue nonchalantly. "You don't understand, this is product localization... Besides, how much can original Gwent cards sell for? A few booster packs and you've pulled them all. How the hell am I supposed to fleece the sheep then?" Fawai Kuangtu chimed in angrily, "You're ruining the source material!" Mosquito grinned shamelessly. "Whatever, it's not like the original is my daddy! These NPCs never played it anyway, so the rules are whatever I say they are. If it bothers you that much, just call it Gwent-ish or whatever. Makes no difference to me." Fawai Kuangtu: "@#%&!" Suddenly thrust into the center of attention, Tang Feng looked flustered, but basking in the cheers of the crowd, his vanity felt thoroughly indulged. He waved to the onlookers with an embarrassed smile. Glancing at the disgruntled big-noses, Mosquito dealt with his friends and chuckled, "Take it easy, pal. Winning and losing is part of the game. One match doesn't prove anything. If you're not satisfied, just win it back next time—unless you lose every single time, that is. I'll be here tomorrow at the same time. Consider the cards in your hand a gift." "Just you wait!" Glaring daggers at Tang Feng's triumphant smile, Damon spat a venomous threat, then turned to Mosquito and muttered in a low voice, "Got any other cards? My deck is garbage." "Of course, but other cards have to be drawn from booster packs... Don't worry, they're not expensive—ten silver coins a pack, twenty cards inside!" Mosquito paused, adopting a sincere tone. "Actually, cards aren't the key to victory; the person using them is. Just like equipment, I recommend you master the cards you have before building a new deck..." That was complete nonsense; no card game could reduce RNG to zero, especially one leaning far more toward party entertainment than competitive balance. The Wilante had no patience for his rambling and slapped down a hundred-silver-coin bill. "You'd better have brought enough." One silver coin bought two cards; he could buy two hundred cards right now and study them back at camp. Why waste breath listening to this guy? Seeing the bill hit the table, Mosquito snatched it up and stuffed it into his pocket. He then signaled to a shill planted in the crowd, who elbowed his way to the center carrying a large burlap sack. "Take your pick! May you build your dream deck! Don't go blaming the cards next time!" With a scowl, Damon plunged his hand into the sack. "Shut up!" Mosquito grinned and zipped his lips, thrilled to watch the man sift through the packs. The cost of a booster pack wasn't even one silver coin, yet he was flipping them for over ten times that! What truly stoked his fire was the sea of eager eyes surrounding them. One sack wouldn't even be enough! At this rate, Mosquito pondered, maybe he could organize a Gwent tournament with prize money... Just as he anticipated, the several sacks of cards he had prepared sold out in no time. Particularly the folks from Ideal City—none of them lacked cash, and when it came to spending, they showed zero restraint. To pull that 100-power Blue-Eyes White Dragon, they tore through half the packs available. Little did they know that the invincible god-card they were currently coveting would be complete trash in the next version update. 100 power? Haha, a total joke! Mosquito had already mapped out what a 10,000-power card would look like in his head. He was even planning to introduce the Alliance's various corps into future card packs! Before long, the tavern hall was filled with the slapping of cards and the boisterous shouts of wastelanders. Flipping through a stack of colorful cards, Tang Feng sighed with emotion. "I don't get it. Why didn't something this fun take off in Ideal City?" Such small, elegant games were indeed rare on the Endpoint Cloud. Those virtual worlds spanning entire planets were vast, but overly hollow. If matches could be paired with virtual reality holograms projecting combat animations and special effects, it would be even better. Sitting at an adjacent table busy counting his money, Mosquito chuckled, "Like I said, my buddy isn't cut out for business. The era of merely selling products is long gone. Marketing requires not just strategy, but storytelling." Tang Feng blinked. "Storytelling?" Shuffling a deck in his hands, Mosquito said casually, "Exactly. Just like today—a single game of Gwent successfully prevented an armed feud between the coalition forces of Enterprise and the Legion... How's that for a story?" Pausing, he gazed out the window with ambitious eyes. "Come to think of it, this village doesn't have a name yet, does it? 'Nameless Village' sounds so lame. Why not call it Gwent Town?" Or maybe Gwentville. Before, this place was called Fuzhuang—a single-syllable name originally. Hearing these meaningful words, Tang Feng froze, suddenly realizing the truth. Holy crap. After all that, they had been played as marketing props the whole time?! ... While the tavern not far from the front lines was in an uproar of excitement, Broken Blade Mountain in the distance was eerily quiet, save for drones hovering in the sky quietly peeking down. A middle-aged man draped in a white cloak gazed toward distant Black Cloud Mountain, his face devoid of expression. Of course, no human could "see" his face anyway. Except for one of his own kind— The "Human Emperor" standing behind him. If that fellow could even be considered human anymore. "Too weak..." His back turned to his colleague, who likewise already dwelled in Heaven, Beast King spoke in a soft voice. "At this rate, we won't even need the flying beasts Luo Qian developed for us. Just those more resilient green-skinned mutants alone will be enough to hold them here." He wasn't very good at coming up with names, especially after having cast off his own name. Even terms like "green-skinned mutants" and "goblins" were picked up from the players who fought them. Yet that didn't matter. A name was merely a designation; once Heaven descended, everything would start anew. "...These weak, incompetent fools have stayed in the swaddling clothes for too long; they've forgotten how to hunt." "They've clearly felt the cruelty of the universe at Alpha Centauri, yet they still squabble incessantly over trivial nonsense." "If we entrust humanity's fragile destiny to such weaklings, our future really will be finished." "I think you're quite right." Human Emperor seemed rather uninterested in the topic. He had only come here to make a delivery, and incidentally take in the scenery and see how the northern defense line was holding up. If Ten Peaks Mountain couldn't hold, he would have to make early preparations in his own diocese. Beast King turned his head to look at him. "Speaking of which, how are things in the south?" Human Emperor replied placidly, "Arzu is still dragging his feet. The Apostles under his control don't obey him completely. It will probably take a little more time." Beast King's expression didn't change, but his matter-of-fact tone carried a faint trace of mockery. "I said long ago that the Second Temple couldn't be trusted. Only by casting off the mortal flesh can one transcend the bottleneck of human limitation and achieve ascension into another dimension." In truth, Luo Qian's failure stemmed precisely from the fact that his ascension was incomplete. A sliver of humanity had still lingered in the sea of consciousness, leading him to view the child of an ugly old-human as an extension of his own higher lifeform. That was an unforgivable mistake. Several crucial moves had gone awry because of that man's momentary softness of heart. Had he activated the Kingdom of Heaven domain earlier, transforming the place into a world like Haiya Province before the Alliance could act, they would never have been forced to engage the Alliance as close as Ten Peaks Mountain. Human Emperor pondered for a moment, then murmured in a soft voice, "The Lord Holy Son naturally has his reasons. Perhaps to him, Arzu's rhetoric holds more appeal. I believe this is a decision born of pure rationality, so there is nothing to worry about." A failure or two was not unacceptable, nor did it prove anything. The evolution of life was achieved through repeated "errors." They already had more than enough evidence to prove that expecting to reach heaven in a single bound was unrealistic. In all such cases, the destination was invariably hell; the price not paid in the present would always be extracted in the future. Beast King frowned slightly, but said nothing more, merely turning his gaze toward the peaks to the north. "Perhaps." He didn't agree with Human Emperor's assertion, but it was hardly an urgent matter. Rather than reaching consensus on such irrelevant details, he was more concerned with the present. He was certain that while they were busy preparing for war, the other side was also anxiously preparing for the coming campaign, pondering carefully how to play their next card. Pity that "Sanctuary" required relay servers to transmit data, and synchronization of information also had to be achieved through them; otherwise, he would have loved to send a couple of scouts over to see what those old-humans had been preparing over the past few days... "There is no need to worry about my side. You'd better urge Arzu along. We cannot wait forever." Human Emperor nodded slightly, his form gradually fading away. "I will."